Chapter Text
And that is how it would have stayed, if not for the fact that Danny exists. Danny is Jackson’s best friend the one who sees what Isaac sees and kicks Jackson out of his more unreasonable moments. Nobody can dislike Danny. Danny is cool, effortlessly so, and so genuinely nice that you can’t decide if you want to smack him or screw him (or both).
Danny also likes Matt. Isaac isn't even sure when this happened. He suspects it was the time Matt grinned and offered everyone chips that one day Allison compimented his pictures. Matt is adorable, Isaac supposes, in his own geeky way.
This proves to be a great incentive for Danny to hang out at Jackson’s place once he finds out that Matt is a permanent fixture in Isaac’s room. It’s funny in a rather bleak way, how Danny sits near Jackson’s window and tries to pretend he isn’t watching Matt being a dork about things. It’s like watching himself, Isaac realizes, which then makes it significantly less funny and much more bleak.
It also picks both of them right up out of their serene, peaceful high-school life and drops them right in the middle of Jackson’s awareness in the very worst of ways.
One day, Isaac looks up from where he is lounging on Matt’s stomach (Matt is drooling on his quilt, but Isaac lets it slide) and sees both Jackson and Danny staring at them. Danny’s eyes flicker from Matt’s neck to Isaac’s fingers in Matt’s hair before Isaac realizes exactly how they must look and shakes his head frantically at them. It isn’t Isaac’s fault that he likes physical contact with the people he trusts, but neither Jackson nor Danny knows any of this. They look like total Boyfriends, Isaac realizes with horror, launching himself off Matt and trying to kick him off the bed.
"Dude!" Matt yells from the floor.
It’s too late, though. Danny looks sad (which really, really shouldn’t be allowed), Jackson narrows his eyes. Isaac reaches down and pinches Matt. Hard.
(Although in retrospect, he really shouldn’t have done that; Matt responded with a full on poke-attack, which, to the misinformed onlooker, looked a great deal like an inappropriate-touch attack and made Danny look even sadder)
-
Isaac is on the Lacrosse team because Derek insists that its good for him; getting used to contact with people other than Matt is important. Isaac isn’t really good at Lacrosse, though, so it comes as a surprise when Coach Finstock puts him in a big match and sends him off to train to the players who are actually good. Its very unnerving, because Boyd is huge, and Jackson is glaring. Everyone looks at Isaac as though they aren’t very sure why he’s here. Isaac very is glad that at least he isn’t the only one who is confused.
Practice is Hell. Isaac is definitely not Big Match Material. Things do fall into perspective when they head back to the benches and Matt is there and Danny is next to him, looking like a love-struck puppy to Matt’s oblivious lump of donkey. Isaac is going to go over, maybe try to clue Matt in, when a hand on his shoulder drags him backwards.
It’s Jackson’s hand, Isaac realizes. Jackson is touching him. Touching him. Isaac swivels around to face an unimpressed Jackson.
“I think you and Matt need some time off,” he says, pulling Isaac closer, snickering at the way Isaac’s breath hitches. Jackson is messing with him, Isaac knows, buying Danny more time with Matt, but just for a few seconds, he lets himself pretend.
“I’d have to find someone to occupy my long hours alone, then,” Isaac hears himself saying. And that is horrifying, because that sounds an awful lot like flirting, and flirting is possibly the worst thing Isaac could pull with the boy he is crushing on who thinks that he has a thing with his best friend and really wants to tear them apart so that Matt will shack up with Danny.
Jackson quirks an eyebrow, plays along, keeping one eye on Matt, who has noticed them standing inches apart on the field and heads over, Danny flailing (coolly, though) behind him.
“Time passes really fast in the showers,” And seriously, Isaac doesn’t need mental images like that when he’s trying to remain sane and logical.
“I’m afraid you aren’t my type,” is what he ends up saying instead. It sounds like the worst, shakiest lie ever, even to his own ears, and Jackson knows it too.
“I am everybody’s type,” Jackson murmurs into his ear, low and gravelly, just as Matt approaches. it is increadibly hot, because Jackson's breath against his skin feels like everything he thought it would, and Jackson really does have wonderfully soft hands.
Isaac does not whimper.
“Hi,” offers Danny, because Danny is nice.
“Danny likes Star Wars too,” Matt tells Isaac, “I said he could come over for the Phantom Menace some time.” He pauses, sees that Isaac is having a serious, internal freak-out and reaches to grab Isaac’s fingers reassuringly. Jackson raises a ‘seriously’ eyebrow at Danny, who looks like he is going to embark on an online Star Wars crash course. And really, Isaac is going to have to clue Matt in, because Jackson thinks that they are together. He tries to convey this to Matt with his eyes and they really have to work on Best Friend telepathy, because that fails spectacularly.
“Right,” says Isaac, somewhat hysterically,” Cool. We’ll wait in my room. Like Friends. Which we are. In my room. Which is across from Jackson’s room and totally not make out until you arrive.” And then he bolts.
-
“Dude,” says Matt the moment they are alone, “Dude, Dude, Dude, you are bound by every single best friend law in every single universe to tell me exactly what went down with Jackass over there.”
Because apparently Jackson has decided that he wants Allison on his arm, now, which immediately puts him on the shit list of a large number of people. Scott, for one, is out for blood, Allison’s parents, who are a whole different brand of terrifying, Lydia, obviously and then Matt. (Only Isaac knows about Jackson’s place on Matt’s list, though, because Matt is a bit of a creeper about Allison)
“Nothing happened,” Isaac says firmly, because it's true, at least on Jackson’s side, “Just because I maybe like Jackson a little bit more than as a neighbor doesn’t mean I’m going to pine like you. Or Derek.”
Derek is Tall, Dark and Handsome; everyone goes gooey inside at the whole broody, sensitive thing he does with his face. What makes Derek a desperate human being who Pines is his tendency to lurk around the high-school grounds under the pretext of keeping an eye on Isaac. Everyone knows, however, the only thing Derek is keeping an eye on is Stiles and anyone who dares to lay a finger on him, innocent or otherwise.
It’s hilarious, almost, how Derek - cool, bad-boy Derek - is reduced to sexually frustrated mush when Stiles is around. Almost. Except for the fact that Stiles is totally into Derek too, which makes their little wishy-washy mating dance incredibly awkward for everyone.
“I do not pine,” Matt is saying with as much dignity as he can muster in front of someone who has actually seen his Allison Shrine. That shit would get him shot in the face by Mr. Argent. “I have just as much chance as Jackson does. She smiled at me at the lockers.”
“I saw that,” Isaac says, “Just after she kissed Scott and said she loved him?”
“She dumped him after,” Matt informs him gleefully, “Didn’t you hear?”
Isaac has not heard.
“I’m going to ask her out,” Matt says, “Tomorrow, before History. Should I return the handkerchief she lent me four years ago? Is that too much?”
-
Let it never be said that Isaac is not the best friend to ever exist. Allison is going to them movies with Jackson tomorrow night, and Matt is a mopey mess. They eat about twelve jumbo bags of Nachos and marathon the Lord of the Rings over the weekend. At the end, Matt symbolically burns his Allison Shrine in Isaac’s backyard. Isaac helpfully blasts the dramatic soundtrack from when the Ring falls and they share a lovely, weepy bro-hug moment over the smoldering remains Matt’s creepy Allison collection.
It is therapeutic for both of them.
Derek, though, is significantly less impressed, because the neighbors complain about the smoke and the ashes that fly into their flowerbeds. Also, the Nachos were from Derek’s special stock for when he’s engaging in his own manly Pining over Stiles.
Isaac and Matt are deployed to visit the neighbors with apology packages of air-freshener and cookies. Miss Doris two houses down makes them stay and remove every trace of ash from her premises, and Mrs Cena across the road keeps them in with lemonade and long lectures about Behaving Appropriately.
It's really hot, and Isaac's hair stinks of smoke and burnt pencils. By the time they stumble over to the Whittemore house, Isaac is cranky and Matt is sulking. This is not improved by the fact that Danny opens the door looking far too happy, and that only Matt is allowed into the house while Jackson stands resolutely between Isaac and the entrance.
“Danny wants to ask Matt about photography stuff. We’ll stay here on the porch.
“Well, somebody is whipped,” grouses Isaac before he can stop himself.
“What.” says Jackson flatly.
“Matt doesn’t even like boys, anyway,” Isaac continues, “I want Matt back.”
“What,” repeats Jackson, more confused than annoyed, if anything.
“What?” Isaac says.
“You mean the two of you aren’t-“
“We like to cuddle,” Isaac says, “And talk about Batman. There is no sex."
“So just friends.” Jackson confirms
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
They stand there in silence until Matt emerges, looking no worse for wear, and a little more cheerful. He is holding a muffin, the bastard, and a can of coke that he passes to Isaac. Not a bastard anymore.
“Bye,” Jackson offers with notes of contrition in his voice. He looks sheepish, and Isaac decides that it’s a good look on him. More human. Although to be fair, there aren't many aspects of Jackson's physical appearance that Isaac finds unappealing.
Matt snickers softly.
Isaac really, really, wishes that he could crush hopelessly on somebody else.